


Define Family

by triwizard_tardis



Category: Free!
Genre: A few minor OCs - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Parents, Domestic Fluff, Everything's okay though, Fluff, Happy Ending, Haru and Makoto are OTP, I'm usually better at tagging, Karma Tachibana is my OC, M/M, Original Character(s), Papa!Makoto, Post-Canon, Sad parts, Slow Burn Relationship, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Very fluffy, everyone else is kinda background, happy most things, i dont know how Japan does things, i love my characters as parents, its 3:00am, like eight years post canon, lots of Americanized systems, one becomes more major much later, scary parts, sorry - Freeform, still takes place in Iwatobi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 14:08:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6910378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triwizard_tardis/pseuds/triwizard_tardis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haruka Nanase's Olympic status takes him away from his Iwatobi home for one year every forth year. But he's only ever gone for a year.</p><p>The night of his second Olympic return, burning curiosity leads Haru to his best friend's house to investigate an impossible rumor. Along with Makoto, the Olympian encounters messy raven hair and...big blue eyes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Define Family

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this for a month. It's freaking huge. I have lots to post. I'm still not done. I don't own Free! Iwatobi Swim Club or Free! Eternal Summer. I watch the English dub, so I apologize in advance if things seem unfamiliar. I also apologize for not knowing about Japanese adoption, or hospital systems. I hardly know about American ones. Stop reading my babble and enjoy the story.

~~~~"So, when did this happen," the raven haired Olympian questioned blandly. His taller brunet friend, owner of the doorway in which the pro swimmer stood, scratched the back oh his neck sheepishly.

"Haru," the man greeted, tone bobbing in embarrassment, "What brings you here at this time of night?" His grin was bent and forced and downright goofy. It was purely out of habit that Haru didn't laugh.

"Makoto, what time of night," he accused instead, "it's only eight thirty."

"Right," Makoto exclaimed, side stepping the Olympian as he tried to enter his friend's house. Haru shot him a suspecting glare.

"If you're trying to hide the kid, you're an even bigger idiot than I thought," he deadpanned. Makoto's smile finally crumbled, and he slumped in defeat, stepping aside to allow his friend access to his home.

"How did you find out," the brunet asked, wincing and pointedly ignoring the well timed giggle floating up from behind the couch. Haru shrugged, feigning indifference in his actions as well as his tone.

"Yamazaki told me," he supplied by way of explanation, then as though anticipating his friend's next question: "He was at the airport to pick up Rin." The answer only quelled Makoto briefly.

"Why was Sousuke talking about me," he inquired, and Haru sighed.

"Not you specifically," the raven clarified, "I overheard him mention something about 'Tachibana's kid' in a kindergarten class he had been visiting for Career Day today. I promptly asked what the hell he was talking about." Haru settled on glaring at Makoto, but the taller man ignored him. Instead, he threw a scandalized look over his shoulder as he closed and locked the front door. Again arising from behind the couch came a bubbly, bell like voice.

"Oooh," it sang mischievously, "Papa, he said a bad word!" All of a sudden, a curly, black head of hair popped up from its hiding place. The tattling mouth remained discretely hidden behind the back of the sofa, but striking blue eyes exuded innocence to speak on the mouth's behalf. Haru stared bewildered at the figure on the sofa. The boy was a shockingly spitting image of himself, though with curlier hair and eyes, while colored like his own, shaped like Makoto's. Said parent's voice broke Haru's reverie, jarring him back to reality.

"Yes, he did," the brunet agreed, "and I'll reprimand him in a moment, but first: you have some explaining to do, young man!"

The head on the couch popped higher, revealing a pair of barren shoulders. The boy's face twisted in genuine offense.

"Me!?" he shrieked, defensively, "What did I do!?"

Haru should have started a timer from the moment Makoto opened the door. He was sure the man, as he acknowledged his childhood friend long enough to politely step around him, set a record that night for the shortest length of time it had ever taken for someone to ignore him. Makoto's big feet bounded heavily down the hallway, away from the door, to the living room where much smaller feet joined the cacophony with a patter to run away from the older man. Haru set a timer on his watch then, deciding to see how long it took for Makoto to remember the guest he left standing in his doorway. In the mean time, Haru busied himself listening and tracking the chaos emanating from the other room.

"Why didn't you tell me today was Career Day!?" The chaos itself didn't actually last that long. The question from the older Tachibana man stopped the younger one in his tracks, long enough to be captured. Correction: the chasing didn't last long, the chaos never seemed to end.

"I did," the boy squeaked, and Haru could barely make out the light thud of minuscule fists banging on a broad expanse of muscled flesh, "I told you last week when we got the fliers from school," the child insisted noisily. Haru could hear Makoto's bounding strides moving closer to the door again. He almost stopped his watch, but the man, absorbed in his conversation, walked right passed the entrance to his home and up the stairs. Haru might have gotten annoyed were it not for the sight of the child -- clad only in his underwear -- hanging lazily over his father's shoulder, seeming to admit defeat as he carried on his own end of the conversation.

"Then why didn't you remind me," the father complained as he rounded the corner, taking the first stair and swinging the son to face in Haru's direction.

"Good night, Mr. Nanase," the boy called, briefly interrupting his argument. Makoto's inevitable reaction aside, Haru had to wonder how the kid knew his name.

"Crap! Haru!" Speaking of inevitable reactions, Makoto bristled as he paused his ascent to the upper floor of his home.

"Oooh," his son sang again, the same mischief from earlier coating his tone, "Now you said a bad word!" Makoto sighed dramatically.

"Yes I did," he acknowledged, glancing the best he could over his shoulder, "but I'm an adult. When you become an adult you can say bad words too, but not before then." He seemed hard pressed to be able to stress that sentiment enough. He slowly, methodically maneuvered a circle on the stairs, and began to descend once again.

"Does that mean, you're not going to yell at Mr. Nanase either?"

Makoto didn't seem to feel that the question warranted an answer.

"I'm so sorry, Haru," he addressed instead, "let me just put this monster to sleep, then we can catch up."

The child flung out his arms and legs, and cheered.

"Yay! No bath," he exclaimed, and Makoto groaned, bringing his free hand up to rub at his temples.

"No, no! Take your time," Haru insisted, fond despite himself, and maybe a little bit amused by the domestic scene playing out before his eyes. "In fact, why don't I help," he suggested to the bewilderment of both father and son.

"But, Haru, you might get wet," Makoto submitted dumbly. Haru gave the man the blandest look he could muster on his commonly expressionless face. Whether the look relayed the message or not, Makoto deflated in the realization of his own stupidity. Then the entire silent conversation was negated when the younger Tachibana groaned in frustration.

"Papa," he whined, "Haruka Nanase is an Olympic gold metal swimmer!"

Haru's eyes expanded in surprise, and he was loathe to acknowledge the warmth that spread across his face at the child's observance and prior knowledge. Makoto just looked confused.

"Oh yeah," the older Tachibana addressed, again over his shoulder, "How are you not freaking out right now?" Haru could practically hear the boy rolling his eyes.

"Papa, that's so un-cool," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Is that it," Makoto teased, "Or is it because you already freaked out the first time you saw Haru and I in a picture together?"

"Papa," the boy wailed in mortification and started beating on this father's back.

"Ow. Ow!" Makoto cried through his laughter at his son's embarrassment. Despite his best efforts, Haru's face split in half with a painfully uncharacteristic smile. He put his bag down, and slipped out of his shoes, leaving both in the well by the front door. Then he made his way to the quarreling little family, and poked his friend in the chest.

"So which way to the bath tub?"

———————

Haru sipped at the tea Makoto offered him, relishing the feeling of the hot liquid as it ran down his throat and sank into his bones.

"So correct me if I'm wrong, but I was only gone a year, right," the raven inquired over the rim of his steaming mug. Makoto just shot the Olympian an indignant look. Haru saw the look and raised him a pointed stare. The brunet folded with a sigh.

"You were only gone a year and a couple of months," he conceded. Haru smirked satisfactorily, and Makoto splayed his head and arms out on the table. He glanced at the older, shorter man. The raven's expression had fallen stony.

"What's his name," he asked, adopting a serious tone. A new type of goofy grin overtook Makoto's face. It shone with unbridled love and affection, if perhaps a little dampened by the exhausted condition that so obviously surrounded the man.

"He's Karma."

Haru's eyebrows elevated in astonishment.

"I'm surprised you didn't keep the tradition," he remarked, sounding almost betrayed. His floppy friend groaned and rolled out his neck, trying to drown out the swimmer.

"I didn't name him," the brunet protested, languidly lifting himself off of the table, "Come on, Haru, you know how time works. He's five; I just verified for you that you have, in fact, been gone for just over a year."

Haru began talking over him: "I don't know what you were up to during my first Olympic Games," he defended, and Makoto groaned again.

"Haru, that was four years ago. You still would have been around at the time of his conception. Also, don't you think you would have met him sooner?"

Haruka shrugged and took another sip of his tea. The air settled. It sat undisturbed for several minutes, until Haru poked the elephant in the room.

"Why?"

Makoto seemed to concede a point that had yet to be made.

"I have a house," he started slowly, "it's not a big house, but it has two bedrooms, two baths. A kitchen. A back yard. And me." Earlier, Haru could feel the exhaustion radiating off of Makoto in waves. At that moment it seemed to concentrate. It went from erratic loss of energy to a blanket of dull entrapment. In two words his gentle giant of a brunet friend went from exhausted to tired. Lonely. Haru's eyes softened. Then he tried his hand at a joke.

"So you wanted a kid but no wife, huh?" he inquired. It wasn't really a joke, at least not entirely. It was more meant to tease then derive laughter. Makoto heaved a dramatic sigh, raising his hands just to let them drop, and hiding his face in a mask that mocked shame.

"Well Haru, there's something I've been meaning to tell you." He lifted his gaze to meet Haru's oceanic eyes with as much nonchalance as he could infuse in his own emerald green orbs, "I'm gay."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that," the older man mused whimsically. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he lifted his hands in surrender, "My apologies. You wanted a kid but not a husband, huh?" All teasing aside, Haru wondered why Makoto didn't just get a dog. Then he saw the silly putty smile that spread across this best friend's face.

"Y'know," he began with an innocent shrug of the shoulder, "I work with kids every day -- I have for the past four years -- and I love it," He gave Haru the most awe inspired smile. "And I watch their parents come to get them at the end of the day, and even the shyest kid'll wear the biggest smile in the world. It always matches the look they get from their parent. I wanted a relationship like that." Haru thought he might have finished, but then he threw his voice behind him, "And when I met the monster hiding on the stairs," Makoto shouted pointedly. Haru leaned to see the staircase from the kitchen doorway. Karma hid his little face behind the railing, and Makoto finished his sentence back in his conversational tone, "I knew, I'd found my son."

Haru could see it in his eyes, shaped so much like those of the boy padding down the stairs. There was no doubt in his mind that Karma was meant to me Makoto's kid. The tall, brunet man sighed deeply.

"Besides," he said, standing and giving Haru a sad smile, "I'm pretty sure the love of my life has never been attracted to anyone." Then he turned and looked down at the child trying to run into the kitchen. "Where do you think you're going," he chastised. He was met with giggles in response. "Unh-unh," he scolded, "it is 10:30 at night; it is waaaay past your bed time." As he elongated the word 'way', he bent down and lifted the child, jogging up the stairs. He stopped midway and called back into the kitchen: "You might wanna get some rest, too. Want me to call you a cab? It's actually quite a hike to your place now."

Haru, still at the kitchen table, was jarred from his thoughts. He shrugged noncommittally.

"Eh. I think I'll just crash on your couch tonight, if that's cool with you." He stretched and listened for the brunet's go-ahead before the man jogged the rest of the way upstairs.

With the windows where they were Haru was the first person awake that morning.

—————

The next day, Makoto awoke to the smell of fish on the stove. Initially confused, the brunet rolled his eyes when he remembered that Haru had spent the night. Reaching the bottom of the steps, he heard the raven call to him.

"You didn't have any mackerel, so I'm grilling your salmon."

Makoto shook his head with a little laugh to himself. Still half asleep, tiredness controlled the taller man's body as he crossed his kitchen and wrapped himself around the raven at his stove.

"Smells good," he hummed into his friend's neck. He didn't notice the way the shorter man froze beneath his touch, the blush creeping up his neck and settling on his cheeks.

"Who: me or the fish," Haru joked.

"Mmm, both," Makoto mumbled, and the heat in Haru's face only rose.

"S-someone's affectionate this morning," he choked out, hoping the brunet wouldn't notice. Apparently he did, because it was Makoto's turn to freeze, eyes blown wide as realization hit him. He jumped away from Haru, scrubbing the back of his neck, entire face beet red.

"Sorry," he squeaked before clearing his throat, "Sorry, I'm not usually up so late these days."

Haru tried not to laugh at the crack in Makoto's voice, then tried not to think of how much he already missed the warmth of his best friend's embrace. He forced himself to attend to the fish.

"So when'll we see Karma," he asked to change the subject. He heard a chair stutter across the kitchen's wooden floor, and a deep sigh as the man flopped into it.

"That depends. What time is it?"

Haru glanced at the little kitchen clock next to the stove.

"8:30."

Makoto scrubbed his hands over his face and whimpered. "Probably not for another hour or so. He'd usually be up by now, but as you know, we had a late night last night."

Haru transferred the salmon onto a plate then grabbed two more and two forks before placing the meal on the table. He fought against the urge to lean in and kiss Makoto's cheek as he sat.

"Thanks," from the brunet man before he started eating, followed by a, "this is really good, Haru," then he launched into a speech about his plans for the day. Haru cut him off after about a minute.

"I'm going to the gym today."

"What, no. Karma starts school again the week after next, and Coach Sasabe gave me time off, but I don't actually no how much. I wanted to spend some time with you now that you're back in town," Makoto whined.

"Well why don't we hang out tomorrow?"

"Why don't you work out tomorrow?"

"That wasn't the deal," Haru explained, "If I got to live at home during the off season, I had to train my ass off daily."

"So you couldn't actually do tomorrow either."

"Well, I was going to work in the pool tomorrow, so I can spend time with you at work, and then after we can spend time with Karma before school. Two birds, one stone."

Makoto sighed. "Fine, but only if your limit training time to an hour tomorrow."

Haru grumbled to himself, but eventually conceded, "Deal."

And that's how Makoto found himself with Haru and Karma at the gym.

—————

When they arrived at the gym, it was almost a struggle to keep Karma from bolting for the yoga balls in the corner. His tiny fingers wrapped around the pinky and thumb of Makoto's much bigger hand, and he slung it over his shoulder for better leverage as he hauled his father.

"Ah-" the older Tachibana began in an authoritative tone, "You can't start without an adult to watch you, and I'm not starting until I drop off our stuff in a locker."

Karma stopped and stomped an impatient foot, turning to whine at his father, but before he spoke, his eyes lit up with enthusiasm and mischief.

"Mr. Nanase doesn't have stuff," he chimed, cheerfully, "He can watch me!"

It wasn't nearly the worst idea Makoto had ever heard exit his son's mouth. Both Tachibanas turned to Haru for his opinion. After some moment longer than Karma seemed to think was strictly necessary, the swimmer turned to address them.

"Huh?"

And Karma groaned with five year old frustration. He launched back into explaining his idea, beginning with its justification. But Makoto was too busy looking for whatever had caught Haru's eye to listen to the kindergartener who wasn't even talking to him. When he found what -- or rather who -- his friend had spotted, a broad smile spread across his face.

"Rin," he called out over the din of gym equipment. He almost called again -- it looked like the red headed man on the treadmill in the back corner of the small equipment space was listening to music -- but the redhead slowed his pace, took out his earbuds, and started looking for the familiar voice. Makoto was a little shocked the man had heard him at all, but when Rin spotted him, he grinned, waved, and started heading over.

Not that any of the adults really noticed, but Karma had stopped talking. In fact, as Rin met the two men by the door of the establishment and began a conversation for the three of them, Karma's presence went almost completely unnoticed. That was, until Makoto felt a sharp pull on his arm.

"Ow! Hey! Karma," Makoto began to scold, until he saw the urgent look on his son's face, "What, what's wrong?"

"Papa," the boy hissed, indicating with a nod of his head to a corner by some vending machines a few feet away, "Can I talk to you in private?"

If it hadn't been so adorable, Makoto might have been worried. Instead, the father turned to his friends and let them know he would be back momentarily as he allowed his son to drag him away. He crouched down in front of the boy.

"What's the matter," the brunet addressed in a hushed, business-like tone. It wouldn't really matter one way or another. Karma was horrible at keeping his voice down, even when whispering, so Makoto didn't even need to check behind him to know his friends were standing silently, hanging on to every word.

"You, know, TWO OF THEM!?" His bright blue eyes bulged from their sockets to help punctuate the betrayal in each of his loud, breathy words. Makoto had to bite his lip and study his tennis shoes so as to not join the two Olympic athletes doubled over in fits of giggles a few feet away. Once he'd composed himself, he looked back at his son.

"Yeah," the swim coach said as plainly as he could, "Yeah, Rin and Haru were rivals growing up."

"Were!?" Rin choked out regaining his composure. Haru stood next to him, already looking as though the snickering had never happened.

"Growning up?" The raven supplied incredulously. Makoto rolled his eyes.

"Okay, fine. Rin is still Haru's rival." At that point, however, Karma was no longer paying attention to his father, choosing instead to ogle the red headed Olympian in awe. "Would you like to go meet him," Makoto dictated slowly. He received a vague nod in reply.

"Okay," he muttered under his breath, standing fully and ushering the miraculously mute child back over to his friends. "Rin this is m--" he had to interrupt himself to keep the boy from hiding behind his legs, "This is my son, Karma. Karma, this is--" this time Karma interrupted him.

"Rin Matsuoka," his voice sparkled with amazement, and Rin visible stiffened to keep himself from laughing. Haru shook his head slowly.

"Rin, count yourself lucky," he appraised, "I didn't get anything close to this reaction."

"Oh you did," Makoto piped, "You just weren't there to see it." Haru shrugged, indifferently. And this time the tallest man couldn't stop his son from darting to hide behind him. Rin bent down in front of the father and ducked his head around his legs.

"So, you like swimming, huh?"

The small raven haired boy hummed his assent quietly, and nodded into his father's leg. Makoto shook his head.

"No, that's not true. Tell him what you like," the brunet encouraged. He was suddenly met with two bewildered sets of eyes. One as oceanic as his son's and one a fiery crimson. He elaborated, "Not as much as you two anyway. He likes it, but it's not his first love."

Probably remembering the bath towel from the night before, Makoto watched as realization dawned on Haru. Rin still had to ask.

"So what do you like, kid?" The redhead strained an ear to hear the child's muffled reply.

"Dinosaurs."

A shark tooth grin crossed Rin's face.

"Dinosaur's, huh? You gonna be an archeologist when you grow up?" That got a rise from the child, boundless energy restored as he jolted around Makoto's leg to face the pro-swimmer.

"Paleontologist!" he corrected, passionately. "Archeologist dig up pots and stuff! I'm gonna dig up dinosaurs!"

Makoto giggled slightly when Haru leaned in to whisper, "Better show him Jurassic Park in the next few years," while Karma kept the redhead busy. Suddenly, Rin stood up.

"I'll watch him," he offered as though he'd heard Karma whining earlier. "Y'know, while you go put your stuff away."

Makoto scoffed lightly, "It's not going to take that long." Rin just shrugged.

"I know, but it's okay. He seems eager to start working out."

Karma looked up at Makoto with the biggest puppy dog eyes.

"Please, Papa," he begged, leaning against the front of his father's leg.

"You know," Makoto began, staring down at his son, "in the time it'll take for me to answer that, we could already be done and started."

"So?" Karma whined. The brunet sighed, directing his attention back to the red headed Olympian.

"If you really don't mind."

Scarcely had Makoto finished speaking when the raven haired boy cheered, "Yes!" And so as his son left with his friends, the man went to lock up his gym bag, only to meet with the three moments later to begin their workout. He found them on the matts by the yoga balls.

About two hours later, Makoto's bright and sunny day came to a crashing halt.

"Hey Tachibana," called a man with a gym bag over his shoulder. Impressively, the man was about as tall as Makoto, but the muscles he trained, and the way he trained them, made him much bulkier than the children's swim coach. Maybe it was that evident difference in size; maybe it was the fact that Makoto never made any effort to hide his sexuality; maybe it was just who the dark-haired idiot was. But Takihiko Ichimaru, fellow member of the modest gym Makoto frequented, decided to make it his personal duty to make the brunet's life a little more hellish every time they met. "Now that your boyfriend's back in town, you gonna return his look-alike?"

Makoto froze what he was doing mid-sit up, and looked right through Karma, holding his feet. He easily removed his ankles from the boy's grip, stood, and stepped protectively in front of his son.

"Hey, you don't talk like that in front of my kid," he demanded. Ichimaru scoffed.

"Your kid," he taunted audaciously, "I thought he was just some stray you picked up at the pound! I mean look at him," he gestured toward Karma, "he's quivering like a puppy!" But if anyone was exhibiting dog-like behavior at that moment, it was Makoto.

"Back off my son, Buddy," the brunet growled, slinking forward to meet the overgrown bully. Ichimaru met the challenge, crowding Makoto's face.

"I'm not your buddy, Fag."

About when Makoto started snarling was when Haru and Rin noticed the commotion. The older raven removed his headphones, abandoned the treadmill he'd moved to, and went to join the fight. The red head, who'd also left the father and son to their workout earlier, went to try and distract the boy.

"He said back off," the original Olympian demanded icily. Ichimaru looked down at Haru and outright laughed.

"Oh and what's the little mermaid going to do if I don't," he challenged. Haru's reply was almost drowned out by Rin's interjection.

"I'm gonna drop kick you in the face here in a minute," the raven promised. At the same time their red-headed friend sauntered over, abandoning the futile task of distracting the five-year-old, voice already raised and deceptively jovial.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, please," he announced, forcing some space between the father and the bully. Haru fell back too, when Rin's voice took on an instantly more menacing tone. "Do we really want to fight here," he spat, issuing a challenge of his own with a warning glare pinned to the abuser. The jackass started cracking his knuckles, wicked grin twisting his face.

Then, from behind the bully, Sousuke Yamazaki entered the establishment. Ichimaru must have been familiar was the cop because merely hearing Sousuke's authoritative tone encouraged the bully to back off.

"Is there a problem here," he asserted, coolly. The bully's face dropped, like someone had just taken away his new chew toy.

"No, officer," he ground out bitterly, still trying to match Rin's prize winning glare, "I was just heading out."

As soon as the gym doors slid shut behind Ichimaru, Makoto deflated. Turning back and falling to his knees, the brunet scooped up his son in the tightest hug he could muster without breaking the boy. The brunet almost broke to hear the sound of his son's voice, cracking like kindling in a young fire.

"I-it's okay, Papa," the boy soothed, as though Makoto had been the victim of the jackass's verbal abuse. "I know h-he was just a jerk." Karma's small hand came up and rubbed circles over his father's shoulder. Makoto squeezed him tighter.

"I love you," he promised with a voice forged in iron. "I love you, so much," he swore. The little hand on the father's shoulder scrunched into a tight, possessive fist. Its accompanying face dug into Makoto's neck, and the man began to feel warm water dotting his shirt collar. But he felt a small nod, too. With a deep breath he let go of his son, holding him instead halfway at arms' length. The boy was looking down, so Makoto lifted his little face. His tiny pink lips quivered, his chin marred by the effort he exerted to keep from all out wailing. His little cheeks were puffy and dampened, splotchy red canvases painted by salt water. His bright blue irises seemed to melt into the new tears welling up on his bottom lids.

Makoto ran his thumb under each falling tear, then placed three kisses on his son's face; one to each eye, then a third to his forehead. He pulled him back to look him in the face again.

"I love you." He couldn't stress it enough.

Karma nodded slowly, still on the verge of tears, so Makoto picked him up and turned to Haru, bouncing him lightly and rubbing his back.

"I'm taking him home," he explained, gently, "We can make plans to meet up tomorrow." He turned to head to the locker rooms to get his gym bag, already feeling the weight of Karma's head lulling to sleep on his shoulder, but an absurdly strong grip braced his arm.

"To hell with that," Haru spoke, voice as icy as it had been earlier. "You need me right now."

Makoto froze in his spot and schooled a brave face, before turning slowly.

"This isn't really you problem," he noted lightly. His eyebrows arched inward and a whimsical smile graced his lips. He looked more like he'd gotten a bad grade on a late assignment then had his kid's spirit slashed before his eyes -- and with a few low insults rubbed into the wound, but they both knew what Ichimaru said about him was inconsequential. Haru schooled his own face into bland disinterest.

"But it is," he almost accused. "He hurt you. He hurt Karma, and I may have just met the kid, but he did not deserve to hear anything that jackass said about him today." Makoto could hear the venom that began to seep back into Haru's tone before he took a deep breath to center himself. "He needs as many people in his corner as he can get." The raven placed a graceful hand on the child's back. "I'm coming with you."

Makoto could only return the gesture with a thankful smile. Then, with a quick 'good-bye and thanks' to Rin and Sousuke, Makoto got his gym bag, and the pair left.

————————

"This feels so wrong," Makoto said, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down his spine as Haru served him the tea this time. The raven sat across from his friend with his own mug.

"What does?" he inquired, taking a sip. Makoto turned to look up the stairs with concern before directing his attention back to Haru.

"Letting him nap right now. I should've woken him up; now he won't sleep through the night."

Haru put a comforting hand on the brunet's shoulder.

"He will," he reassured, "he's had an emotional day; whether he naps now or not, he'll be exhausted by bed time."

As if cued, the two men heard a piercing wail from the second floor:

"PAPAAAA!"

Makoto launched himself up the stairs, completely disregarding the tea he'd spilled, and the chair he'd knocked over in the process.

"Karma!" the father called, rocketing down the hall and throwing the door open. He found the raven haired child sitting in bed, bawling. Fat, hot tears swelled in his eyes and streaked down his face. The stegosaurs comforter he clutched for dear life was soaked between his tiny, white-knuckled fists. His mouth hung open with strands of saliva stretching between his lips like loose stitches, and from his sorrow reddened lips came the cries of a banshee. His hunched back convulsed with his irregular breathing.

Makoto swooped in and scooped the boy up in his arms.

"Shh, sh-sh-shh."

He hugged Karma close, and rubbed his son's back, hushing him soothingly.

"Shh, sh-shh."

Karma started breathing slower, more regularly, so Makoto kept at it until the most irregular breath from the boy was his hiccuping.

"Karma," he prompted quietly, pulling his son back gently by the shoulders and looking him in the eye. "What happened, buddy?"

Karma hiccuped a few more times before responding.

"I-I had a bad dream," he stuttered helplessly, fighting a flood gate of tears. Makoto pulled him into another protective hug. He felt warmth soaking the collar of his shirt, and the ragged expanding of the boy's back beneath his hands.

"Wanna tell me about it," the brunet asked gently. He received a strangled hum declining the offer, followed shortly by the muffled sound of and air horn that reverberated through his own chest, like the raven was being squeezed. The dulled sob skipped a few times before tapering off, and Makoto only held the child closer.

"It's okay," he promised, "I gotcha; Papa's gotcha." The kindergartener continued to moan.

He calmed down again, and really stayed calm, after about twenty minutes. That was twenty minutes of raspy, surprisingly guttural sobs; twenty minutes of hushed tones and reassuring words; twenty minutes of leaning on a waxy green doorframe, enduring inexplicable heartache as Haruka's best friend softly cradled a five year old.

"Do you think you wanna talk about that dream now," Makoto prompted again, as patient as ever.

After a pause, Karma mumbled a small, "No." Makoto nodded efficiently.

"Okay," he mused trying to calculate the best way to proceed from there, "Okay, well. Why don't we get you some water, and you can come downstairs and help me with dinner, does that sound good?"

The raven nodded shyly, and Makoto grinned. Just as the father moved to get up, a third voice entered the mix.

"Why don't I try talking to him," Haru said from the doorway. Makoto offered him a worried, quizzical look from his spot on the bed. His ocean blue eyes were as unreadable as ever, and the backlight from the hallway only silhouetted him in the ever darkening room. The father turned to his son.

"Wanna try talking to Haru," he suggested. In a feat of magic, the boy remained both quiet and still. The next voice to speak, therefore, was Haru's.

"Come on, kiddo," he prodded authoritatively, "Your papa can go get started on dinner, and you and I can join him when we've finished our talk. I promise you're not in any trouble."

Both adults sat patiently, until the boy's meek voice poked the ever growing silence.

"Okay."

The room settled for a moment before Makoto sighed deeply.

"Alright," he nodded officially, "I leave you two to it then." He turned to Karma and pressed a kiss to his forehead before leaving the room.

Haru moved towards the bed when he heard heavy thudding on the stairs. Unaware of for what, the older raven waited. Karma was silent, but the Olympian expected that. A final, vaguely hoping sigh, and then Haru began.

"You dreamt about your papa, didn't you," he said as kindly as he knew how. He didn't need to look to see the small raven head bobbing its assent in the corner of his eye. Haru situated himself on the bed so he was facing Karma. He picked numbly at the seam of the comforter. "Let me tell you a little story about your papa.

"When we were really little -- probably about your age, maybe even younger -- your papa was good friends with an old fisherman that worked in the little port near here. One summer, pretty close to when we were supposed to be starting school, a big, unpredicted storm hit in the middle of the day, when a lot of fishermen were working out at sea. Quiet a few of those men died, including your papa's friend."

"Why are you telling me this?" A small strangled sob escaped with the words, and Haru looked up to see Karma starting to worry with the edge of his sheets. In an uncharacteristic act of protectiveness, Haru lifted the boy and pulled him into his lap.

"You'll see," he said, brushing raven curls out of the kindergartener's wet eyes. Then he continued:

"Anyway, after that day, your papa developed a bit of a fear of the ocean, and understandably so. What wasn't as understandable to me was something that happened in high school. You see, your papa was the captain of our swim club in high school. And between the dedication of him and our manager Makoto, myself, and our friends Rei and Nagisa all got to visit a series of islands where we trained for our first swimming competition over summer break. It was designed to be a low budget trip, so we slept in tents on the beach and swam from island to island instead of in a pool.

"Well Rei, our newest recruit, was actually just learning how to swim. We didn't want him to strain himself so we told him that if he wanted to stick to the same training schedule as the rest of us, he'd have to use a kick board. As you can imagine, that slowed him down significantly. Well, Rei wasn't really satisfied with falling so far behind. So, the night after our first day of practice, he took his kick board and tried swimming out from the shore a ways to work on his stamina. Well, right about when Rei was getting the hang of kicking, a storm hit.

"We all made some pretty stupid decisions that day, but besides Rei's, if you ask me, your papa's was the dumbest. He had been bunking with Rei for the night, and woke up from the storm to find Rei was gone. He left the tent to try and find him only to see Rei half-drowning in stormy waves by the light of a lightening strike. Even as afraid of the ocean as he was, especially in a storm, in that moment your papa rushed into the sea to try and rescue Rei. Nagisa and I woke up soon after, and dove in after our two idiot teammates. Your papa got so scared of the storm, he made it as far as reaching Rei before he froze up himself. Nagisa rescued Rei; I had to rescue your papa."

Haru could read the question on Karma's lips before he had a chance to ask it.

"The point to all this, Karma, is that your father doesn't leave anyone behind. He cares a lot. He cares very easily, and for those he loves, he would put his life on the line without a second thought. He'd only known Rei for a handful of months at that point, but he already cared about him enough to face his greatest fear for him. I promise you. Your papa loves you a hundred times more than that."

"You don't think he'll give me back?" The boy begged insecurely. Haru squeezed the son to his chest and kissed the top of his head.

"Your papa would be horrified if anything happened to you. He'd be heartbroken if anyone tried to take you away from him. He would never, in a million years, dream of giving you back."

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously, I don't own Free!


End file.
